2009 was like a bad acid trip. Obama and the wide-eyed folks who voted for him got a serious reality check. Most people just shrugged it off and found something to distract themselves with. Now we know that miracles—like making D.C. a noble, righteous, and efficient place—are best left to the 3 a.m. infomercial preachers like Peter Popov, who has apparently brought God and magically appearing checks into peoples’ lives with his sacred miracle manna.  At least when we see Popov we know he’s a fraud with empty promises.

With Obama too many people saw the second coming of the messiah and got their hopes up.  Hope alone leads to blue balls of the spirit, and we’re all aching now. To think one man was going to undo decades of crooked work by thousands of syphilis-infected twits was incredibly naïve. Let’s look at the past 30 years as one wild and weird party that was out of control from the beginning. The house got wrecked and we all had some part in it. Sure, others were a little more twisted and did more damage, but when we woke up hungover only to realize it was our house that got demolished we became desperate and asked the one guy who seemed most sober to clean up the mess.  Trashing a house is much easier than cleaning it up, and that’s what we’re slowly coming to grips with. No single person can repair all the damage that was done by all our greed and excess, and it was wrong of us to expect so much.

Nevertheless, the mainstream media seemed to slip further into a debilitating state of psychosis. The major networks have become so mind numbingly frustrating that I now watch Fox News. Why? Because it’s pretty fucking funny. Watching Glenn Beck’s increasingly bizarre psychological breakdown—one that was far worse than Paula Abdul’s on American Idol—was more entertaining than observing Guido culture on MTV’s Jersey Shore.

Even more frightening was Sarah Palin and her growing following of whacko freaks, which was topped only by Octomom becoming an indefinite part of pop culture—at least until Earth gets sick of our shit and hits the refresh button.  Really, some psychopath who got artificially inseminated an insane amount of times actually was news this year. And I guess I’m doing society no favor by reminding everyone about that lunatic with a nickname that only a super villain would have.  Then again, when your friend sleeps with a hog because he drank one too many Slippery Nipples, it’s your duty as a pal and a guy to jog his hazy memory.

It’s the haziness that made this year feel like one of those truly life changing excursions into the world of LSD. The day after is always spotty as random and strange events are remembered while others are forgotten. The previous day always feels as though it were a dream, and this year feels very much like a figment of the imagination. After all, it was one long blur that began for me with a blunt at midnight in New York City, which was promptly followed by mediating a near-violent dispute between bouncers and a person I had just met. A week after that I found myself in Amsterdam, and when I returned the year slowly spiraled out of control. Every bit of news I read was hopelessly depressing and all I could do was put up the blinders and focus on the events directly affecting me.

And from talking with assorted humans about 2009 there seems to be a general consensus that this was just one of those odd years. Nothing seemed to go right and everybody appeared to be walking around in a daze.  2010 is almost here and while we created the yearly cycle there is something about the approaching new year that gives everyone hope for 12 months that are better than the last dozen. But let’s remember that hope is only going to give us spiritual blue balls, and by this time next year we’ll be making the same mistake of thinking a year of unmet expectations will suddenly go away and somehow become awesome once that crystal ball drops in Times Square. No, the only way we’re going to see any change to our collectively lackluster circumstances is to take the proper action to ensure that the great potential of this pivotal point in American history is not wasted. Here’s to 2010: the year we get our shit together and have a lot of fun in the process.

Share wbat you feel to be the weirdest moments from 2009 in the comments. Whoever posts the strangest moment will get a $25 iTunes gift card. Remember to include an email address so we can contact you.

Animated story of Dock Ellis Jr. explaining how he pitched a no-hitter on LSD. It sounds impossible but after hearing his explanation, it’s totally believable.

Bonus:

Here’s a video of some of the earlier testing that was done with LSD in regards to its potential tactical usage.  Consider this a teaser or warm-up to the MK Ultra article that will be published after the winner of Joe Rogan’s Fanny Pack Contest is announced.  You could be the author of the winning article.  For details on the MK Ultra sub-contest goto the bottom of the Fanny Pack Initiative article by clicking here.

Thanksgiving of 1990, I came home from New York to find the house full of people, at least 35, all talking and playing cards.  It seemed like an almost wholesome experience, Norman Rockwellian, if Rockwell had grown up at the Hazel Park Raceway and knew how to hustle Clubyash. Children ran all over the place, a minimum of two turkeys were on the table to feed the massive hordes of family and friends, all served after the assembled watched the Lions lose yet another football game. 

After the meal, I found myself sitting at the head of the table next to Jerry Stein, one of my father’s oldest friends in Detroit and Uncle Jerry to my brothers and I.  The Old Man was quite fond of Jerry, even as he belittled his old hippie politics and lifestyle.  After all, he had shown Dad what a dresser was.  Aronchick, however, was always proud that he attended all three of Uncle Jerry’s weddings including the Jewish/Buddhist affair held in the Detroit Institute of Arts on Woodward Avenue. Continue Reading